Posts Tagged ‘celibacy’

Over these past few months, I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I need in a man in order for a relationship to stand a snowball’s chance in Hell of surviving between the two of us, and D_G seems to have all of those qualities… and actually asked me to be his girlfriend.

There was no awkward silence one day when he just took it upon himself to introduce me to someone as his girlfriend…

There was no phase in which we were both confused about the boundaries of our relationship…

There was no 9-month wait in which I was constantly looking for signs of how he felt about me because he wouldn’t say the word (sorry… having flashbacks)…

He just fuggin’ said it… with HIS CHEST!

Some of you may be a little confused right now, so to catch you up on the allusion, here’s a clip:

Now for the set-up: We’re at his place on a Thursday night, chillin’, sippin’ ever so slightly on Wal-Mart champagne (don’t judge our small-time romantic evening in… we’re college students, alright!) and eating some sort of chicken and noodles with sauce dish that he cooked (he can cook!). The roads are frozen (when I say frozen, I don’t mean small patches uh-uh no suh… these roads were ice cold, like a national APhiA convention. Burr) and all of his friends were over there, stuck. I love it when his friends are there! They may be the nicest people in the entire world.

Anywho, we’re chillin’, playing DJ Rap Star on whatever video game console they have in his apartment when all of a sudden, his friend, whom I shall refer to as JamRoQ (because he’s a Jamaican Que, which is just so funny to me)grabs a black magic marker, pulls him into the bathroom, and shuts the door.

Ummm… kkkkk?

So I’m looking around the room for an explanation and everyone is avoiding my gaze… so of course my mind goes straight to the worst things imaginable:

They’re doing something mildly freaky and very unholy in that bathroom, and I don’t think I’m into that.

I went into the room and sat down in front of the computer, trying to see if the ice had melted off of the roadways yet so I could go home. I was so engrossed in weather.com that I didn’t even hear the bathroom door open… until D_G crept up behind me and said “Turn around”.

Oh. My. God.

I slowly turned around to find a cheesin’ D_G standing behind me with no shirt on… with something written across his chest. It read:

WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRIEND?

… with a box around the right nipple indicating to grab that one for “no” and one around the left indicating “yes”.

I don’t know if any of you guys saw, but I finally decided to talk to the Distinguished_Gentleman about my celibacy.

Yup. You heard right.

Why, you ask? Because I found (with the help of my awesome readers and commenters) that I needed to tell him before things got serious and any sexual tension cropped up between us. That way, he wouldn’t be expecting anything that I couldn’t (or rather, wouldn’t) deliver.

So the next time I saw him, I sat him down and told him I wanted to talk.

and I just blurted out, “How do you feel about not having sex until, say, October 1st, 2011?”

Of course, he was on the floor laughing. No bueno. I was serious and he was on the floor about to pee himself, laughing! WTF?

“Babe, why such a specific date? If you don’t want to have sex for a while, cool, but it sounds like you’ve got this all figured out in your head using some sort of formula or something. I mean, I know you go to that nerd school and all, but damn.”

I gotta admit, I could kind of see how just bustin’ out a specific date on him could be considered… slightly funny. But this negroid was still on the floor, and he hadn’t stopped laughing yet. Matter of fact, there were tears in his eyes.

I feel like… it just wasn’t that funny.

I guess he saw the look on my face because he straightened up and asked me seriously for my reasoning behind the date.

And I told him everything.

I told him about my past and how I felt like I needed to give myself time to heal and discover more about myself without having sex in the picture as a means of doping myself up, so to speak.

Because we all know sex (well, good sex) is something like a drug. That’s why you can’t just go around doing it in public. That ish is a controlled substance.

Better cuff yo’ dealer, quick!

Anyhow, after he heard all of the sordid details about my past, he gave me a hug (how cheesy… but still oh-so-sweet) and told me that if I wanted to wait, he’d try to tough it out with me.

“I can’t make any promises that I won’t want it at times, because 10 months is a long time, but I support your decision and I won’t cheat on you, so I guess we are in this together.”

I mean yeah, I like him and yeah, he likes me, and yeah, he has some piercings that I’m a little too into (don’t judge me for my freak-like-tendencies)…

… and yeah, he gives the best kisses in the world and cooks for me and massages my legs when I’m sore from ROTC…

But what if it ends?

You see, I’m really starting to care about D_G, and if, for some odd reason, our relationship ended (which is more likely than not)… well… I just don’t want to hurt like that again.

And how am I supposed to tell him about my celibacy? Do I just wait until it comes up or should I tell him now and gauge his reaction? What if he starts acting funny? Although I’d be better off without him, it would still hurt.

Now I’m saying all of this in order to get the point across that while I do feel that I am better equipped now than I was 55 days ago to deal with a relationship because of this celibacy challenge, I may have taken a few steps backwards in the sense of being able to be in one. I know I can be faithful and honest and understanding and all that other jazz, but I don’t think, especially in the case of D_G, that it’s any easier for me to lose someone that I care about.

First of all: I’m a very sexual creature, and, to be honest, I don’t really masturbate for fear of my roommate and her boyfriend (my brother) hearing it and jonesing me about it for… I dunno… THE REST OF MY NATURAL LIFE.

Second of all: I’ve almost completely lost my sex drive. Yeah, it’s easier, but at the same time… I’m only twenty and I really don’t want to have sex with anyone! I’m supposed to be young, dumb, and full of cum…

Now I’m just young and dumb 😦

Last but not least is the third reason I’m shocked at the way things are going:

I met someone.

No, scratch that… I spent time with someone that I met long ago and sparked a new flame. Aww yeah.

So here’s the story:

As a cadet in Army ROTC you tend to meet a lot of cool dudes with nice bodies, but they’re all immediately put into the “just friends” or “running buddy” category because… well… the cadet Corps has enough issues without the added burden of cadets screwing other cadets.

Yeah, I said it.

But last year, one young man in particular (who was a year older than me) caught my eye. He wasn’t magically delicious, like a box of Lucky Charms, or even super strong, like the Hulk…

He was just this average Joe-Schmoe black guy that I actually felt comfortable talking to about stuff, seemed really nice, and that I actually looked forward to seeing on field training exercises and at PT tests, when we’d catch up on each other but somehow never exchange numbers… but was getting kicked out of the program for (duh duh duhhh) legal reasons.

I mean, what can I say? Shawty want a thug… with nipple rings (Oh hell yes, I digs that REAL hard. *drools unapologetically*)

Fast forward to last week and I’m casually clicking the “Send Friend Request” button on facebook to add my cocoa-chocolate-Adonis-fantasy-lover as a friend on facebook. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in FOREVER and we were cool… and he was no longer a cadet, so he could be my friend now… right?

RIGHT?

The next day I just happened to be perusing the F-eth B-eth in my leisure time when a message from him popped up asking how I was. After some witty banter back and forth via the infamous social-networking site, we decided to exchange numbers. After all, a college student may not have clean underwear or decent food to eat, oh, but we will for sure be killing the unlimited text game. #StraightMurkin in ‘dis…

AAANNNYYYWWWHHHOOO… we got to textin’ late LaTe LATE into the night about everything platonic and mildly flirtatious. Ladies and gentlemen, I must admit: when I felt the vibe, I pulled out all of the game that I’d had on reserve for moments such as this for years… which of course ended in us setting up a time to chill together and bake some cupcakes at his dorm, which is about 20 miles away.

But the thing is, he didn’t get off until 11PM that night, and I am not a good driver when I’m well rested, let alone sleepy.

Somehow, Saturday night found me flying up I-75 North with “Lisa Marie” blasting in my ears and the freshest skinny jeans in the ATL hugging each and every one of my curves. When I say I was ready for war, y’all… my jeans were Flocka, front yard, broad day, with the SK. I mean, BA-BA-BA-BA-BOW!

So I finally arrived at my destination and went inside to find a WHOLE BUNCH of people in his apartment drinking and playing Def Jam RockStar.

Sad face. I thought it was gonna be just the two of us.

But, as college often goes, people come and people leave, and soon everyone was gone but his roomies, their female companions, and him and I in the kitchen, arguing over some Red Velvet cake batter and whether or not I should take a shot of Tequila (which I was strongly against… for a few minutes). Then we were icing the cupcakes and he was holding me and telling his roommates not to tell me that I was cool or else I’d get a big head. The shot of tequila left me very sober but afraid to drive and, at 3 AM, I was too sleepy anyhow, so I politely asked to crash.

I felt very bad about this. I hate crashing and I hate being incapacitated in front of people whose respect I desire.

So we went to his room and he politely offered me half of his bed to sleep on, which I gladly took. His school furnished their students with full-sized beds and I was all too used to sleeping on an XL twin 3 feet in the air, so I knew I’d have no problem staying on my side. He gave me his word that he wouldn’t try anything that night, citing the umpteen-million rape cases pending in America that involved the victim drinking beforehand.

OK. Cool.

The next morning I wake up to flashbacks of my time with ArtKid because wouldn’t you know it, this kid is playing in my hair, saying “It’s so fluffy I wanna ddddiiiiieeeee!”

*dead*

And we sat up at 9 AM and talked our way all the way into the afternoon non-stop, not even leaving the confines of his room for food. I had to admit it to myself: the boy had me. He focused solely on me, and even kissed me as we were talking.

Several times.

Ahh… let me be honest… we made out ferociously like two teenagers for a good thirty to forty-five minutes… and it was FUGGING AMAAAAAAZING. He’s probably the best kisser I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing.

And he didn’t try to go any further than that, which made me want to kiss him even more.

AND (are you guys listening)… he claimed me. I mean to say, he looked me square in the eyes and said, “I want all this to be mine,” and was gesturing to me.

Part of me wanted to just lay down and write his name on my shoulder inside a ribbon on a heart with a black crayola marker, like in elementary school. Ugh! Where have you been all my… college career?!

It’s been more than 24 hours since I got back to my school and I can’t stop thinking about the kisses, the arms wrapped around me in his kitchen, the cupcakes, and him standing at the curb watching me drive away.

I really really really hope this one works out in my favor, and that he’s not the kind of guy who will trip about my celibacy… because I’m still in this 🙂

So, world, herein (hopefully) lies the beginning of a very beautiful thing: the saga of the Distinguished_Gentleman, or D_G for short. Yes, the underscore is mandatory.

I just got out of the field (field training with Army ROTC) and I realized that I’ve been celibate for 39 days.

Thirty. Nine.

And I’ve honestly stopped craving sex at this point.

I think with all of the drama between me, ArtKid, and Coach (more on that extremely complicated, messy argument later), I’ve become a bit repulsed with the idea of having sex with some dude who, more than likely, is only pursuing me for sex.

I mean, I’m jussayin’… yuck. Don’t people masturbate anymore?

But these 39 days have given me a new perspective on my failed relationship with Mr. Image, and what I really want in a man.

Mr. Image was the first man I had a serious relationship with since I’ve been in college, and it lasted for the better part of two years… but it was never truly working. I say this because, no matter what, he always assumed I was going to be mad at him for doing certain things, like hanging out with his female friends or going out to the club… silly little things… so he’d always lie to me.

… Fun Fact #1: Most women absolutely hate liars

And when something was really important to me, chances are it was of negligible importance to him, such as my all out war with running in an attempt to qualify for participation in Army ROTC (despite what people may tell you in an attempt to motivate you, some people just AREN’T meant to run). Tell me why my boyfriend, a high school and college track star, never once ran with me, even though I asked him to.

… Fun Fact #2: Everyone likes to be cared for.

Those two huge problems caused a host of even smaller ones, including trust issues… and I think we all know that no relationship can ever survive trust issues (I didn’t even need a fun fact for that one).

Ironically enough, for a while after we broke up, I really wanted that back. I thought I may actually love this dude.

Lately though, I realized I was just comfortable with what I had… and I really don’t want to talk to him anymore. I’m finally over being treated any kind of way for the sake of a relationship, and I honestly don’t want to be in a relationship for a long time. I like it that, without committing, I can have all of the dates, lots of the companionship, and twice as much fun as I did while I was in a relationship.

Fun Fact #3: Being single is actually not a bad thing!

I just feel as if a relationship is too much work for me right now, and I’m not into trying to make something work. I really don’t even know anyone who would be worth it right about now… except this one grad student who speaks French, actually possesses manners (OMFG and a whole bunch of other acronyms), and has a smile fit for prime-time TV (yum).

Anywho… all this in 39 days! Whoa. I think I may actually call myself enlightened!

In all of the years I was under my parent’s roof, they only asked me what I wanted for Christmas twice, and every time I answered simply: “a little brother”.

Now that I’m old enough to know better, I see two things wrong with this request:

The day after Thanksgiving is FAR too late to ask for a gift that has to bake for 9 months

I should’ve asked for a BIG brother (which wouldn’t have happened, unless they adopted, but a girl can dream, right?)

Reason being: conversations like the one my Big Brother and I had last night… about men.

*audience breathes deeply* Yes, this is one of THOSE posts…

Basically, I asked why men will date a “good girl” or, to be more politically correct, one who wants a meaningful relationship and does not participate in more… physically-based ones. I mean, it just seems like a waste of time to me! I don’t know about everywhere else in the country, but here in Atlanta, finding a girl who is willing to just have sex with you and be done (also known as a “ho” to some, but I accept their choices and roll with my own) is, well, easy as pie.

McDonald’s apple pie… From the drive-thru.

So why break some young, hopeful, slightly-naive (read: superbly-coiled) girl’s heart with all the game playing when you could have just gotten with one of the numerous hoes of all shapes and sizes that inhabit even the most stringent of universities here in Atlanta (hey now, hoes be studyin’!) as well as the loosest of lounges (BTW, what’s up with a lounge? I mean, I don’t like clubs, but a lounge? A chill little negro like myself could get with a lounge… #imjussayin). In essence, why misrepresent yourself in order to get into a win-lose situation, when you could be real about things and subsequently get a win-win?

My big brother’s answer: Because either way, we still win, and we want what we want. If that means hurting the girl… well… you can avoid her afterwards.

Damn. Never thought about it like that.

But it does make a lot of sense: if you know that, no matter what, you’re going to win and you don’t care about the party who is subject to lose, why even make them a part of your thought process? And let’s face it: most of the time, men (at my age… so fairly young) are on their DJ Khaled isht: they just wanna “win, win, win, no matter what”.

And it doesn’t matter if I lose.

So where does this leave me, you ask? On a journey of self-discovery, as per his and Number1Roomie’s recommendation. I think it’s time for me to take a step back before I become too frustrated or turn into someone I can’t look in the eye. So, this year is dedicated to me… in my purest form: without sex. I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but I’ve already got one week down, and only about 51 to go… right? And I’m not taking myself completely away from men… I’ve just decided to take N1R’s advice and “chill”, i.e. let the right one find me.

Last week, while driving home to Warner Robins, GA, one of my friends asked me to come see a high school football game of which he is the coach. Being that both of us had an acknowledged romantic interest in one another and it wasn’t TOO far out of the way, I quickly changed my route, put the address of the school in Sprint Navigation on my phone, and off I was…

and three hours later, when they won the game, I was somewhere on a dirt road in Laurens County, GA, crying because I couldn’t find the school.

Fast forward to yesterday and I am frustrated in downtown Atlanta, unable to find my way back to campus from a store I went to only three miles away.

Then last night I got a series of calls and text from Coach, basically saying that all he wanted from me, for now, was sex and friendship, although he’d led me to believe otherwise at the beginning of … well… whatever we had.

And as I sat in my car crying, having just found my way back to campus, I realized that I’d been lost far longer than a few minutes, and that it wasn’t the streets of Atlanta or the back roads of Laurens County that I was having trouble navigating.

These past few months have had one recurring theme: failed relationships… failed relationship attempts… basically, if I kiss anyone, it’s pretty much guaranteed that in as few as 3 weeks our conversations will be few, far-in-between, and strained.

Don’t believe me? Check it out:

Big Blue, who asked for a relationship, then, two months later, said he didn’t know if he should be in one when the school year starts.

ArtKid, who became less and less attractive as time went on, although we had a lot in common. Finally, he came right out and said he “wasn’t looking for anything serious”. This was AFTER the $1 cheeseburger incident.

Crump, a relic of my past, came back into my life briefly to invite me over to watch a movie late at night (that we actually watched), then proceed to ask me, the next week, if I would mind being his friend with benefits because, although he had feelings for me, he didn’t know if they should result in a relationship. We just plain don’t speak anymore.

Softy, who has made it crystal clear that he’s been through far too much with women to start a relationship right now, but that he still wants to be with me, just in an unofficial way (WTF is that? Can someone please let me know?). We go to Pinkberry every once in a while.

SweetnSour, the guy who ogled at me all summer, got my phone number in the fall, and proceeded to come to my room and get naked while I took a call outside. Don’t you know this fool wanted to act surprised when I asked him to put his clothes back on? Needless to say, I haven’t heard from him since. Note to self: never give your number to a football player.

Oldie, an ex-football player at my school whom I had a lot of fun with in the last year, but who sort of fell off the face of the Earth this summer after saying that he actually did want something serious from me. Imagine that.

LeJuan (his name is it’s own mildly-insulting pseudonym) who asked for my number, invited me over, and let me take an epic nap in his bed alone. He’s a nice guy, but there’s no real connection.

Coach, the latest of my bad experiences, who wants only sex and friendship unless the friendship “happens to grow into a relationship”. Oh, so you want a plaything? And you want ME to be that plaything? Oooohhhh cool, I’d love to! Perhaps I can put it on my resume!

For the past few months, I’ve been thinking it was them. They were all weird. I just chose the wrong people to get involved with. They’re just jerks.

But now I see that it’s me. I’m looking for things in men that I can’t find in myself.

And if I can’t find it in myself, how the hell am I supposed to even begin to attract someone with those qualities that I really want who will be serious about me?

So I’ve decided to take a step back from the dating world in general. I’m not even trying anymore. And I’m making a new resolution to help me back it up:

Starting October 1st (just because it’s a good date), I pledge to be consciously celibate for an entire year. That means no sex (duh), no “dry-humping” as people like to call it, no mouth play, no nothing. Basically, if it ain’t kissing or hugging, and it ain’t upright, I can’t do it. I’m hoping that, without the distraction of sex, I can learn to eradicate all of the poisonous things in my life and figure out more about myself.

So, world, I’d like to welcome you not only to my hair journey, but a new life journey. This year, ranging from October 1st, 2010 to October 1st, 2011, will hereby be known as my year without meat. #lehNOTdoit